Carry the Infinite
by Strike the Dirge
Summary: Ryou has always been the bland spectator or the helpless victim in his life. He never thought about having to become the hero of someone else's. Very slightly AU, Yami Yugi/Atemu x Ryou Bakura. Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

_Yu-Gi-Oh._ Yes.

Really.

(Just something to get me writing again (and also because I have not been able to find a 'Ryou gets the Puzzle' plot anywhere on FFNet- am I really the _only one_ dying for a similar plot? Either way, when I saw the tragic lack of it, I knew it had to be done). (Also, anyone following ToP, it's not dead yet! Or it's becoming undead. Or something.)

oOo

When Yugi asks him to hang on to the Puzzle, Ryou doesn't know what to say for a long moment. As his silence stretches toward a third minute, Yugi tentatively clears his throat over the phone.

"Bakura..? It's fine if you don't want to, I just thought- Well, it was kinda stupid, huh?" He laughs awkwardly, voice slightly apologetic. "I mean, you probably want to forget all about... Well, anyway, just forget I asked, okay? I'll talk to you la-"

"_Wait-!_ ...Um, that is... I-I wouldn't mind at all, Yugi." Ryou feels himself flushing and suppresses the urge to smack himself on the forehead.

"R-really?" He can hear the relief in his voice, and he remembers why he likes Yugi. It's been nearly two years since Atemu and the Thief King crossed into the afterlife, and since then things have been oddly quiet. Yugi and his gang go out and play, like normal high schoolers (except when it gets inexplicably quiet and everyone stares anywhere but at each other, remembering things no high schoolers should've had to see or do). Ryou frequently finds himself invited to these play-dates now, and he wonders if it's because the Ring Spirit is gone, because the Puzzle Spirit is gone, or because he was there (whether he remembers it or not) for much of the shit they went through.

Kaiba even shows up occasionally, dragged along by Mokuba. Ryou even thinks he saw him smile a few times (he has a terrible smile, but Ryou supposes that's to be expected of someone who only gets practice with icy smirks).

He and Yugi chat idly for a few more minutes- Yugi always sounds so _happy_ to talk about nothing in particular, like it's a treat after spending so long with only life-or-death things to say- before they settle on a time and place for Yugi to give him the Puzzle. They decide after the end-of-summer graduation party, before Ryou has to leave for his part-time job. Then Yugi says he has to finish packing for the move to his dorm and they say their goodbyes.

Ryou sets the headset back into the cradle and stays there for a moment, letting himself absorb the idea that Yugi trusts him enough to leave one of his most precious things with him while he's at college. He hasn't seen him wear the Puzzle since that day the Pharaoh strode proudly into the light, but Ryou has seen it sitting on the desk in Yugi's room, kept polished to a heavy gleam amongst the dusty framed photographs of Yugi and his friends laughing and carousing. The Ring is in one of the cluttered boxes of junk in the attic, full of things Ryou doesn't want out in the public eye but can't quite throw away.

For the first time since he put it there, he ventures up into the dark attic and pulls it out. It rests in his palms emptily under the buzzing yellow light of the single low-watt bulb, a dusty clutter of metal points and hoops and a broken leather cord. The malice that he'd come to see in its shapes and movement is gone. Now it's only a gaudy old piece of jewelry. He tosses it back into the box he found it in and turns off the light as he leaves.

oOo

The party has a good turnout, all things considered. Better than anyone expected, really, especially since Marik managed to worm an invitation out of Yugi for himself and his sister despite living half a world away and neither of them attending school at any point in their lives, from what Ryou can gather. Mokuba shows up, which means Kaiba shows up as well to evacuate him if Yugi and gang get too friendshippy and start poisoning his little brother's mind further.

Tristan takes over the music, which is a relief after listening to Téa and Duke bickering over the stereo for nearly half an hour. Marik drags Ryou aside for a highly embarrassing string of unabashed apologies for his dealings with Bakura at one point, to which Ryou can only nod and smile and try not to wish the earth will swallow him up as Marik's loud voice draws a small crowd despite them standing in Yugi's kitchen.

"-and for telling him you were expendable and for offering to send you to the Shadow Realm so he could have your body- but don't worry, turns out that wouldn't have worked anyway- and for-"

"-Yes, well. Let's let bygones be bygones." Ryou smiles his best smile and holds out his hand, hoping he's not as red with a mix of embarrassment and anger as he thinks he is, because there are quite a few people watching and snickering and muttering at the kitchen door now. Marik beams and takes his hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Great! You know, Ryou, I like you. You're nothing like the whiny weakling Bakura always said you were."

Ryou's mouth twitches at the name, but he keeps nodding and smiling until Isis drags her brother away and he can escape. The rest of the evening is fairly uneventful. They 'watch' a movie (or rather watch Joey and Tristan act out a lively parody of the main characters, which ends up being more entertaining anyway), eat pizza and popcorn and drink- he swears it must be- _kegs_ of caffeinated soda, play games (of course- it is Yugi's house, after all), and the evening winds down with everyone discussing with each other what they'll be doing now that they're free of the shackles of high school, even though almost everyone already knows what everyone else is doing. Duke Devlin is the first to leave, making his excuses and promising to get in touch again soon before he bows out, and then it's Ryou's turn. He lightly taps Yugi's shoulder as he heads toward the door, and Yugi looks up from his rapt conversation with Téa, meeting his gaze with a happy, relaxed expression that quickly firms with resolve as he nods and gets up to fetch the Puzzle.

"Are you sure you don't want to take this with you, Yugi?" Ryou holds the necklace carefully in his palms, though he knows it's quite strong, and Yugi is watching his hands and seems to understand that it's respect, not fear, that makes him handle it so gently.

"Yeah, I think I am. I kind of... Want to turn over a new leaf, you know? -I mean, I don't want to _forget_ or anything, but..."

"I understand," and he does, very well. Yugi beams and his small hands clasp briefly over Ryou's wrists, warm and calloused from living.

"I thought you might. Thank you, Bakura."

And Ryou doesn't have the heart to tell him to call him 'Ryou'. He nods and wishes Yugi all the best at college, and then he hesitantly hooks an arm around his shoulders in an awkward hug, which Yugi returns without hesitation.

"Thank you."

And he remembers why he likes Yugi.


	2. Chapter 2

This was written to Christmas choral music. Why? Because I can.

Thank you, to anyone who's reading/commenting on/faving/watching this fic (especially James Birdsong, BakushippingxForever, and KrystalMountain for the awesome comments). You guys rock.

oOo

Ryou does not own a car, so he walks back, bundled against the fall night chill and hugging the Millennium Puzzle gingerly to his stomach, and after he's deposited it carefully at home he walks to work at a family-owned small restaurant. He buses tables, takes orders, delivers hot meals and drinks, and he is unfailingly polite. It's why he's had this job so long, and why the owner has told him he'll be getting a full-time spot when one of their very old and very sweet waitresses retires in two weeks. When Allistair's closes at ten, Ryou helps sweep up and then collects his tips and coat and walks home after bidding the rest of the staff a good night. He likes this job quite a bit. The staff are all friendly except for the cook (whom Ryou suspects spends too much of his life three inches from a boiling-hot stove to really be called sane if he were polite, anyway), the customers are almost always cheerful (or at least they are once they've been in Al's for five minutes).

And everyone calls him Ryou.

oOo

It's very dark and quite cold by the time he gets home, and after locking up after himself he turns up the heat and changes into pyjamas and a thick sweater and socks. He settles himself down on his bed, where he politely put the Puzzle on a pillow earlier, and takes it into his hands. He's felt the Millennium Ring a million times, knows every groove and curve and dent, could probably make a copy of it in clay in his sleep, but he's never held the Millennium Puzzle for long enough to know it at all (at least, not with his own mind in control). He slides his fingers across the faces of the pyramid and he can feel the tiny nicks and grooves, wondering where each one came from and whether his own hands are responsible for any of them. The edges of the puzzle pieces that make it up are so perfect he can barely find them. After putting it down he can see the faint smudges his fingerprints have left, so he fetches a cloth and some polish and buffs it until it glows like a beacon, and when he's satisfied he transfers it to the writing desk by his window.

oOo

He dreams of the Shadow Realm for the first time in a year, and Bakura's pale eyes have replaced all but one pair of the dozens surrounding him, his tan mouth silently screaming everywhere Ryou looks- everywhere except for that one spot, where a pair of angular eyes glow golden and a wolfish jag of a gilded smile glitters, vivid against the darkness and brilliant surrounded by Bakura's washed-out stare.

oOo

Ryou's schedule shifts to revolve around work easily without Yugi around to invite him to hang out with the gang (it was always Yugi who invited him- Bakura had ensured himself more immortality than he'd realized, in the end). Monday through Thursday he gets up at five, works until nine, and then comes home to relax and eat 'lunch' in the kitchen- it's the brightest and cheeriest room in the house (he's even moved the Puzzle onto a mat in the centre of the little kitchen table). He goes back to Al's at eleven and works through the lunch shift, gets off at 2:30 PM, and the rest of the day is his until he goes to bed at nine. Once every two weeks on Friday he dusts and vacuums the house so that when his father _does_ come home from one of his trips it's relatively neat, and he cleans the Puzzle meticulously every week (he would do it less often, but he finds himself handling it a great deal lately, and he hates leaving it smudged), going so far as to carefully remove one piece, polish it all over, and then replace it before moving on to the next (as he's not at all confident in his ability to put it back together should he completely disassemble it).

One such Friday he's sitting on the couch with the Puzzle in his lap, absently watching the American remake of Godzilla as he lazily rubs a Q-tip through the grooves in the middle of the golden eye piece. He doesn't pay much attention to the movie until the monster rises out of the water for the first time, but when he glances up and sees the enormous creature storming across the pier and shrieking, a jolt of hot, sickening fear shoots up his arms, up his spine, and clenches his heart. Ryou bolts off the sofa for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he's retching on his knees. It only stops when he's out of things to throw up, and he leans his forearms on the seat, breathing hard, trembling, sweating, and wondering what the hell _**that**_ was all about.

He gets shakily to his feet and brushes his teeth before coming back out to the living room, eying the television warily, but the sudden, nauseating shoot of terror from before is gone as if it was never there. Ryou sighs and turns off the television, lifting the fallen pyramid from the floor by its leather thong and using the cloth to replace the middle eye piece to avoid smudging his cleaning work.

oOo

He dreams of the Shadow Realm again, but it's not any part of the Shadow Realm he's ever had the bad luck to end up in. It's dark, yes- darker even than the areas he's been in; so dark he can't see his hands in front of his face. It's also silent, which he's never experienced before. The Shadow Realm is quiet, certainly, but always there's a constant ripple of disturbing noises just out of proper hearing range. It's one of the many things he hates about it. But at least this part of it is without that unceasing chatter. Even Ryou can make no sound here. There are no eyes watching him, no mouths contorted into agonized grimaces. But he isn't alone. He can feel that with more certainty than he can feel his own body, invisible and dream-numb in the inky blackness. He turns, turns, turns, but sees nothing, hears nothing. His companion, whatever it is, does not reveal itself, and he wakes with a fearless but befuddled sense of frustration to the first streaky pinks of sunrise.

oOo

Another Thursday afternoon sees Ryou pushing open the front door with a heavy sigh, sore and exhausted from dealing with an unusually heavy lunch crowd, an unusually cranky few customers, and the clean-up for a birthday party full of screaming, food-flinging little kids. He slams the door after himself and locks it with more force than necessary, then storms straight for the bathroom and a hot bath. After a nearly hour-long soak and a change into soft flannel pyjamas he no longer feels the urge to commit infanticide (though he might still be tempted if he runs into the little boy that managed to lodge a chunk of birthday cake in the grill of the ceiling fan), and he trudges himself wearily into the kitchen for a cup of tea. He toys with the Puzzle while he waits for the tea to steep, turning it over on his fingertips absent-mindedly as if he's considering the next move on a Rubik's Cube. It's pleasantly warm from whatever wan fall sunlight has been settled on it through the windows and skylight, and as he shifts its weight between his hands he feels his anger and frustration and tension easing out as if it's sucking them out of him through his fingers.

He sighs at himself; it's somehow an even sillier concept _because_ the Puzzle used to be occupied. Ryou makes himself set it down and drinks his tea determinedly, wondering if Yugi ever did what he finds himself doing often these days, playing with the empty Puzzle to help himself think or to relax himself or just to give his hands something to do. He should call Yugi this weekend and see how he's doing- he realizes with a small pang of guilt that he hasn't spoken with him since the night he passed the Puzzle over. He then recalls with a curse that he doesn't have Yugi's cell number, nor the number of his new (or not so new, now) dorm room, and that he'll have to call Joey for it, since he's the only one of Yugi's gang whose number he _does_ have. He doesn't much like talking to Joey. Oh, he doesn't doubt he'll give him the numbers when he asks. It's just that Joey always gets this look on his face and this tone to his voice when they talk, like he has to remind himself that it can't be the Ring Spirit pulling tricks on him anymore, and that Ryou can be one of the good guys again.

He moves to take another drink and finds his cup empty and some of the tension back in his shoulders and neck. He rolls his eyes at himself and gives the Puzzle an exasperated glance.

"I don't suppose you can do phone numbers?"

The eye in the centre stares back enigmatically until Ryou snorts at himself and nudges it back onto its mat, heaving himself up and heading wearily for the telephone.

oOo

It's the Shadow Realm again- the new one, the dark, silent one with the dark, silent companion hovering somewhere in the near distance. Ryou turns his floating non-body through the pitch again (or at least he thinks he does- it's difficult to tell in here), and slowly he gets the feeling of his invisible companion tentatively offering a proverbial hand. It's nothing he can pinpoint- the feeling of being in company suddenly just increases slightly, becomes slightly more directional. He finds, vaguely, the direction and begins (he hopes) to move in it, but then he hesitates.

Shadow Realm dreams are never good ones. Even when nothing at all happens they tend to be nightmares (because he knows full well how terrifying the nothing of the Shadow Realm can be- Bakura made sure of that), and when something does happen- especially when something (or someone) appears from the shifting, prowling gloom- the nightmares can quickly turn into night terrors, and more often than not he finds himself screaming and thrashing violently in bed when he wakes, drenched in sweat and scratched by his own lashing hands.

This would be the first time he's voluntarily left wherever his dream has placed him in the Shadow Realm, and considering his past record of nightmares involving _Things_ in the blackness, he isn't sure he wants to break that habit of staying in place. He stops the forward (he thinks) motion and tries firmly to wake himself, dragging his brain from the muddle of sleep- and for just a moment, torn between the veil of slumber and the groggy daze of wakefulness, he thinks he feels a twinge of frustration from his dream-lurker.

And then he's staring at his bedroom ceiling, listening to the clock tick off the seconds.

oOo

Ryou feels jittery and unsettled from the moment he wakes up, and he finds himself somewhat disappointed that it's Friday because a hard day at work would be the perfect way to distract him from this feeling of unbalance, of discontent. Instead, he takes the time to make himself an elaborate breakfast, eats it on the sofa with the television turned to a random, noisy channel, and then sets about scrubbing every inch of the house spotless while music stations blast from various radios. By the time he finishes polishing the last faucet handle he's sore enough to need painkillers, but it's still barely past noon. Ryou aims every unpleasant word he can think of in the direction of Al's for setting his biological clock to wake him up at ungodly early hours as he downs two pills with a strong cup of mellowing, caffeine-free tea and flicks through television channels for something suitably obnoxious to distract him from his thoughts.

He settles on a colourful and potentially irritating cartoon that has promise and fetches rags, Q-tips, polish, and the Puzzle so he can clean it on the couch. His mind buzzes as he stares at the screen and scrubs, but he stares harder and scrubs harder, and eventually the faint brush of impatience at the edges of his consciousness fades away. Every time he begins to relax, however, it rushes back from the back of his head, poking and prodding at him even as he firmly locks his thoughts down to things like the weather and the song playing this morning when he was cleaning the bathroom and how incredibly one-dimensional the main character in this cartoon is.

Each time it fades back more reluctantly and with more frustration, until it feels like Ryou is in a shoving match with someone determined to knock down his defenses and get past him, not just fighting against antsy boredom. Finally he throws down his rag in frustration, dropping the Puzzle on the couch and storming to the phone by the kitchen door, deciding to try his luck talking to Yugi. He tries the dorm room number Joey gave him first with no luck, and then the cell number with similar results. He leaves a friendly message on his voicemail, asking him how he's been and when he'll be in town again, and apologizing for not calling earlier, and then hangs up, unsatisfied.

A deep breath. Another. He's getting too worked up over a stupid dream. Or, if it's not the dream annoying him, he's getting too worked up over nothing at all. A few more deep breaths. He just needs to watch his inane cartoons and relax.

Ryou strolls back to the sofa and seats himself, still taking deep, steadying breaths- it seems to be working. He un-mutes the TV to a flurry of cartoon sounds, picks his rag up off the floor, folds it neatly into quarters, sets it on the table, and leans back against the cushions. He watches for a few minutes, then glances over at the Puzzle abandoned beside him.

_It winks._

-The eye doesn't move. It doesn't literally, physically _blink_ at him.

Somehow this is only a small comfort.

The television is on- the light might've just hit the right angle to glint across the surface as he looked over. Or maybe he shifted his weight on the couch when he looked over and the Puzzle moved and the light was just- _it does it again_ and Ryou knows this time that he's not crazy, it really did _glitter_ across its face in a manner that's too deliberate and too vivid to just be a glint from the TV or a motion that reflected the overhead light.

He sucks in a breath and restrains the urge to flee from his seat. He makes himself wipe his sweating hands on the thighs of the beaten-up old pants he wears for cleaning house and carefully reaches for the Puzzle. His fingertips brush its surface, which he registers is unnaturally warm even in the warmth of the living room- before he's too busy blowing on his fingers to think.

It _shocked_ him-!

Ryou glares at it in confused panic- _what the hell is going on? The Millennium Items are all __**empty!**_

He grabs the nearest weapon- the plastic bottle of polish- in his right hand and hefts it up threateningly, reaching warily forward with his left until his skin brushes the heating, buzzing metal again...

Nothing.

No sudden zap, no out-of-place glinting, no abrupt one-way trip to the Shadow Realm.

Nothing.

Ryou lowers the bottle in relief, clasping his fingers around the pyramid and laughing shakily at himself. He's delusional. He's going nuts. He's paranoid. He lived with Bakura through one too many evil plots, and it's finally gotten to him. Everything's normal, everything's fi-

-And then his soul is jerked from his body with a self-satisfied and almost gleeful _snap_ and the world around him goes black.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey other than Ryou. _Awesome._

Many thanks to all readers, reviewers, favers, and watchers- especially BriAnon, the wonderful KrystalMountain and BakushippingxForever (again!), ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb, and RunicSiren for such encouraging and wonderful reviews! You guys make my day. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

oOo

Ryou comes to blearily, feeling horrendously dizzy and even more out of sorts. He bleakly blinks open his eyes. Staircases reel off into inky corridors high above him, upside down and sideways and twisting in every direction. He knows without looking around that he's lying on the platform at the top (bottom?) of one such staircase. He's never been here, but he knows this place. Yugi has described it to him in great detail before.

This is the inside of the Millennium Puzzle.

He closes his eyes again, squeezing them tightly shut, swallowing back the panic flowering to life in his stomach. He tells himself that he doesn't care how he got here. He just needs to think about how to get back out. Standing and brushing himself off, Ryou wills his spirit to return to his body, and the tangle of dark stairs and darker hallways begins to fade around him.

-But then he feels a wave of angry irritation and the Puzzle _lurches_ back into place, knocking Ryou off his feet. This has never happened before- even with the Ring, and Ryou really starts to panic now, especially when an exasperated presence nudges at the back of his mind with a rather insultingly clear feeling of _calm down you idiot_-ness. He blocks it ferociously- cutting off a voiceless cry of outrage- and scrambles back to his feet, bolting down the first corridor he comes across. It swiftly becomes impenetrable pitch black, and Ryou runs headlong into a wall after only a few minutes.

Yugi failed to mention the maze-like structure of the hallways in his nostalgic tales.

Ryou groans softly from the cold ground and pushes himself up on his elbow, gingerly feeling what _was_ a broken nose a moment before (and fervently thanking whoever created the Millennium Items for making spirit forms heal quickly). He's wiping the blood away with his wrist when he hears a soft scuff behind him, and a sudden deep voice crows cockily, "I've found you!"

In terror, he tries to whip to his feet and spin around at the same time, and ends up wrenching his leg painfully and crashing chin-first onto the stone floor with a resounding yelp before scampering up and backpedaling into the wall, staring into thick blackness. His eyes search the heavy gloom, but he might as well be in his new dream-Shadow-Realm for all he can see, and for a moment the only sound is his heart beating in his breast like a scared rabbit. Then he hears a rustle of cloth right in front of him and flinches involuntarily. A wave of something- something warm and reassuring and ever so minutely apologetic- washes over him, and he takes a breath. He feels stiff cloth ruffle over his jeans. Another breath. Hot fingers lightly touch the back of his cool, shaking hand, then slide to grasp it. He draws another.

"Let's go back," the deep voice says, quieter than before, "where it's brighter."

Ryou closes his eyes, letting his captured hand be pulled up and the rest of him dragged after it, then eases himself away from the wall and onto his feet, feeling strands of hair stroke his cheek as he brushes very close to his pursuer. He lets himself be led back the way he came (he thinks), his hand awkwardly limp in his captor's clutches. As soon as he spots light ahead he tries to squirm his arm free, but there's a sharp prickle at the back of his mind and the figure before him tightens his grip, squeezing hard enough to hurt. The light brightens rapidly, as the darkness swooped in suddenly when he ran away, and his captor quickly comes into silhouette. Ryou knew it- he _knew_, even though it should've been impossible- but the sight of the ridiculous spikes of hair crowning his head makes his stomach plummet.

Well, he thinks resignedly, at least it's not Bakura. (_That_ doesn't even bear thinking about.)

Still, he can't bring himself to say it until they're fully in the light, standing on the platform of one of those dizzying staircases, and even then they stand in silence for a long moment before he can get himself to speak.

"Yami," he sighs wearily at last, just as the other opens his mouth to speak. He meant to make it a question, but it wasn't really, anyway, so he just stares at the brown-golden hand against his skin unhappily. Yami is silent for a moment, then seems to realize he was being addressed.

"-Me?"

Ryou straightens a little, bracing himself, and glances up to meet his eyes.

Yep. There's no doubt it's him. Tanner, slathered in gold jewelry, wearing Egyptian clothes, but it's the Pharaoh without question.

-God, what does he tell Yugi? This is another thought that doesn't bear thinking about, so he waggles his hand in the Pharaoh's grasp instead. "You can let go now. I won't run or anything." Yami eyes him suspiciously but lets go. His gaze makes another sweep of Ryou as he's rubbing circulation back into his fingers.

"You aren't what I expected," he says after another drawn-out moment.

"I shouldn't think so," Ryou agrees, and Yami's eyebrows dive into sharp swoops. Ryou sighs; he should probably just get on with it already. The Pharaoh doesn't seem to be going anywhere, no matter how hard he wishes to be back on his ordinary couch, watching irritating, ordinary television, and blandly living his ordinary, ancient-magic-less existence in relative peace.

"Yami," he forces himself to fix his stare directly on the Puzzle Spirit's confused eyes, "what are you doing here? Didn't you... You know-" he waves his hands, searching for an inoffensive way to put it- "cross over..?"

The Pharaoh is pursing his lips and giving Ryou a serious look from beneath his narrow brows. "I believe you have confused me for someone else. I am not Yami."

Ryou's not in a good enough mood for this. He scrubs his face with his hands and huffs out an irritated breath, staring up into the black tangle of stairs and halls and doors where the ceiling should be. "Oh? And who _are_ you then?"

Yami seems to be fast becoming just as exasperated as Ryou. There's an edge to his voice and his ever-imperious eyes are glinting in a way Ryou remembers all too well. It's a look he saw frequently whenever Yami was being baited and falling for it. Bakura was an _expert_ at drawing out that particular face, but Yami had never used it on Ryou before. It's hard to glare fiercely at something you barely notice.

"I," Yami growls darkly, drawing himself up, "am the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. And now I believe it is time for _you_ to introduce yourself."

Oh, for the- Does he really _not remember_? Ryou resists the urge to slump against the wall. "Ryou. I'm Ryou Bakura." How did this get so complicated so quickly? -Yami looks unexpectedly pleased, and for a heart-soaring moment Ryou thinks he remembers him, remembers everything, and all his memory needed was a little jog-

"Much better. It is my pleasure to meet you, _Ryou_." He says the name with some relish.

Ryou is not feeling the same pleasure.

"Y- Spirit, it's been a... Well, it's certainly been _interesting_, 'meeting' you." Not exactly a lie, he tells himself. "But now I had really better be going. Goodbye." Ryou wills himself back into his body with all his might, but Yami is just as quick-witted as he remembers, and with an angry snarl he lunges almost before the last syllable is out of Ryou's mouth. His hand clenches around Ryou's bicep, fingers digging in until his knuckles go white, and a furious stab of pain crashes through Ryou's consciousness. It jolts him and he loses his concentration, crashing to his knees with a strangled shriek, clutching his head against the resonance of that split second of pain.

For several moments he can only kneel there, panting, Yami's long golden fingers cutting off his circulation. The Pharaoh is the one who breaks the silence, and Ryou is surprised to note he sounds just as out of breath as himself.

"You are... Unexpectedly proficient at that," he husks, voice strained. It's clear he's trying to hold his temper back. Ryou raises his gaze, and the look on his face confirms it. There are little crinkles of strain at the corners of his eyes, which are hot with frustration, and his jaw is tightly clenched- but his mouth is a carefully neutral line.

Ryou finds himself wishing he'd never accepted the Puzzle from Yugi- but no, then he's wishing all this on _Yugi_, and he has enough stress in his life without being accosted by his amnesiac Yami. Alright, Ryou wishes Yami remembered everything. He'd give Ryou that pleasant, bored smile that says _'Sorry, but you're not really worth my time. Nothing personal.'_ and then he'd ask to drop in on Yugi to see how he's doing. _'And maybe we could get the whole gang together again. I'm sure Yugi would be thrilled if you could come, Bakura.'_ Yes, that would be infinitely preferable to... _**This**_, where he seems to have arrested Yami's full attention- and annoyance.

"I'd really like to go home," he says, as polite as possible. This seems to make Yami pause, and the tightness of his jaw loosens some. But if Ryou thought it would be that easy (which he didn't really- it felt like he might as well say it on the off-chance), he was wrong.

"You can't. -Yet," Yami amends when Ryou gives him a bleak look. Ryou opens his mouth to speak in the pause, but Yami hurriedly cuts him off. "-You must understand, you're very important."

And it dawns on him.

"-No, _**NO**_, Yam- Spirit, that's not-!"

"You're the keeper of the Millennium Puzzle," Yami says meaningfully. Ryou's mouth works helplessly, the words choking in his throat. All the anger has drained from the Pharaoh's face, and he's looking down at Ryou with something like awe. Rather than loosening, his grip is if anything tighter than ever, Yami's hand shaking with the force. The pain is starting to make it hard to keep his thoughts straight.

"You've made a mistake," Ryou croaks finally, wondering why this day just can't get _better_. Yami's shaking his head, looking slightly bewildered, as if the idea of his 'keeper' being resistant to the idea had never crossed his mind. It brings up an unexpected wave of both ire and sympathy in Ryou.

"No, Spirit, that's **Yugi**. _He's_ the keeper, _he's_-"

Yami laughs, but it's like he's at a loss for anything else to do. His deep voice echoes in the cavernous maze of the Puzzle. "No, _Ryou_, it is you. You assembled the Puzzle! You have cared for it. You've _spoken_ to me, as if you knew I was there- because you did. You knew- You noticed our connection subconsciously and you-" If Ryou weren't already on his knees he'd have had to sit down. The Pharaoh seems to notice waxy lack of colour in his face and lowers himself to his own knees, releasing his crushing grip on Ryou's arm to grasp his shoulders with both hands (much more gently, thankfully).

"It doesn't matter if you don't believe me yet. With time-" his voice strains a little, as if the idea of waiting any longer strikes some worried chord in him- "you will grow to understand." He hesitates. "...If you'd like to return to your home, you may- on one condition." If Ryou weren't so busy having a mental meltdown he'd have thrown the spirit a disparaging look. But it's all too real- the Pharaoh's callused fingers snagging on his shirt as they rub his slumped shoulders distractedly; his breath on his face, hot and moist; even his scent- some obscure mix of spices and oils that smells too fresh to belong in the musty dark _oldness_ of the Puzzle.

When no spirited negative response from Ryou is forthcoming, Yami continues, speaking slowly and with force. "You must wear the Millennium Puzzle. You mustn't take it off- this is very important, Ryou. If you agree... I can allow you to leave." Ryou never thought he'd miss being called 'Bakura' with that dismissive confident air. He closes his eyes and forces himself to nod. Yami's hands tighten marginally on his shoulders- he can't remember Yami being this touchy-feely before. -But then he hardly knew him before. Maybe he was like this when Yugi finished the Puzzle, too.

"You must _promise_," he husks tensely, expression dark and serious. Ryou meets his gaze, feeling his stomach sink even lower. It takes him a few throat-clearings to get his voice to work.

"Yes. I promise, Spirit."

All the tension melts from Yami's hands and expression, and his face breaks into a wide crooked smile, eyes crinkling. His hands slide down Ryou's arms to his wrists as he stands up, pulling him with him. The Puzzle starts to fade around him, and for a moment Ryou thinks he's passing out before he realizes Yami is sending him back to his body. The Pharaoh's cockily-pleased voice catches his attention as if from across a great distance as the Puzzle blurs into a mass of colours and light and disappears.

"You... May call me Atemu, if you like."

oOo

"-What?" Ryou asks in alarm-

-To his ceiling.

He's in his living room, laid limply across the couch, a commercial chattering from the television. He sits up slowly, and a clinking weight around his neck makes him look down. The Puzzle's gleaming corners wink up at him from his chest. He must have fallen right on top of it when Yami grabbed him out of his body, and the Pharaoh must have taken over to put it on before he came to find him. _-The Pharaoh must have taken over._ Ryou is too practical to think it was all a dream. He can still remember Yami's scent perfectly- can count the rings on his golden-tan fingers in his head. The Puzzle is heavier than the Ring was.

''_You may call me Atemu,' he said...'_

Tentatively, Ryou concentrates and reaches out in his mind for... _Something_; that elusive thread of connection Yugi called the mindlink. He never felt the need to search for any link to Bakura- Bakura tended to be the mental conversation-starter (and he never exactly went looking for proof of their 'bond' or to make sure the Ring Spirit was still around). After a moment Ryou stumbles upon a strange sensation- like Yami's smell and heat and the roughness of his fingers woven into a single brightly-glowing twine of sense- and he recoils from it at once almost in alarm, but then the sensation floods forward and washes against him eagerly. It's like nothing he's ever felt before, but it reminds him of his father's big hand stroking his hair when he was small and Amane and his mother were still alive. Unexpectedly embarrassed, Ryou withdraws swiftly from what he knows must be Yami's thoughts, his heart constricting painfully in his chest.

-He needs to talk to Yugi.


	4. Chapter 4

I really hate ridiculously long authors' notes so I'll try to keep this brief, but I just got several more detailed reviews last time and I wanted to do a more personal thank-you to Bakushipping, as you reviewed as a guest and I can't find your account to PM you.

_**Bakushipping!**_ - You've been with me since the first chapter, ever so redonkulously long ago, and just knowing that you've read and liked every chapter thrills me so much. (Also, I can't believe you went to the trouble to write a review on the Wii.) Thank you!

oOo

Yugi's cellphone rings exactly five times before it goes to his voicemail message. It's only then that Ryou realizes he has no idea what to _tell_ him. He looks down at the pyramid hanging from his neck, shining innocently in the afternoon light.

"-Um, Yugi, it's-" he has caller ID, he _knows_ who it is- "um, well, I..." He sighs and rubs his eyes with the hand not holding the phone. "I... Need to talk to you... Er, it's important, so... I know you must be busy, but if you could give me a ring I... Well, um, we can talk when you have a moment, so... I'll talk to you soon and- I hope everything's going well with you, and-... Er, talk to you s-" God, he wants to crawl back into bed. "-Okaygoodbye!" He slams the phone back into its cradle with relief.

'_This is your fault,'_ he thinks venomously, glaring down at the Puzzle. But being disagreeable isn't going to fix anything, and Ryou still has a life to lead. He should, for instance, go buy groceries before he's completely out of food. He shakes himself, straightens, and goes to fetch his coat. To his chagrin, it isn't bulky enough to hide the Puzzle. There isn't much he can do about that. He briefly entertains the idea of yanking the Puzzle off by the cord- but he remembers just how swift Yami's reflexes are, and the thought is short-lived. Ryou sighs. There's no way around it: he'll have to take it with him.

And pray none of Yugi's friends will be in the vicinity.

oOo

Ryou makes it within two blocks of the supermarket before it begins.

"_Ryou!"_ He barely clenches his jaw against the startled gasp in his throat to swallow it in time. He doesn't manage to keep himself from tripping on his own feet and stumbling two graceless steps before he can regain his composure.

"_-Spirit?! Wha-what is it?!"_

"_What is __**that**__?"_

Alarmed, Ryou whips his head around, but can't find anything out of the ordinary- except for the people glancing at him uncertainly as they pass, and he realizes his expression is probably more than a little strange. Flushing, he drops his gaze and starts walking again, embarrassed. _"What is __what__?"_

"_Those growling __things__."_

Growling..? -Ah.

"_They're cars, Spirit,"_ Ryou sighs, waiting at a crosswalk for the light.

"_Are they dangerous..?"_

He's silent for a time before he says, _"Sometimes."_ The light changes and Ryou steps down in front of a rumbling SUV. _"-But not usually, see?"_

Yami, who had made an anxious noise when Ryou stepped off the curb, doesn't really seem to see, but he seems too proud to admit it. Ryou takes advantage of his uncertain silence and strides more quickly down the street. The grocery store, of course, is just another hotbed of questions though, and Yami wants to know what everything is, from the checkout counters to the freezers to the colourful boxes of frozen fake crab.

"_Spirit..."_ Ryou didn't want to have to resort to this, but Yami seems eager enough to learn that he's going to be in here all night otherwise. _"How about you go through my memories when you have these questions? It'd probably explain things better for you."_ He'll just have to hide anything to do with Yugi and Yami from him for now. -And Bakura, too, so as not to arouse questions.

There's a sulky silence for a moment before Yami answers stiffly. _"I have attempted."_

"_...You... -Did."_

"_Several times,"_ Yami replies, almost accusingly. He seems to see nothing wrong with rifling through someone's memories without permission- if anything, he seems to think it's his right. Ryou tries to stifle his irritation.

"_You have blocked me. It's quite a thorough block."_ He says this with the same forced neutrality with which he 'complimented' Ryou's ability to leave the Puzzle. It seems too passive-aggressive for Yami, who'd always seemed like more the confrontational fighter. But then he did toss around trap and magic cards in Duel Monsters often, and Ryou can't pretend that he'd known him that well.

"_Alright, I'll try to fix it."_ He digs around until he can recall the first memory without the Ring. It's years ago, on Christmas Eve- he received the Ring for Christmas that year. His father, home for once, was attempting to make gingerbread cookies at two in the morning, and after waking to the smell of smoke and the sounds of cursing and banging, Ryou had climbed out of bed to help in his pyjamas.

Ryou imagines scooping everything that happens after that early Christmas Eve morning into his 'arms' and pulling them towards himself; imagines erecting a solid stone wall around them. The barrier doesn't really need to be strong, he thinks. It just needs to hide them 'firmly' enough that Ryou will notice if Yami tries to see them.

That done, he goes in search of the mind link, and there it is, that vivid streaming thread of _Yami_. Ryou hesitates, trying to figure out how to do this part. He imagines himself standing in front of it, pictures reaching out to it with a hand. The golden thread flows forward, flooding into his 'hand' with what seems to be an almost questioning air. He focuses on turning and 'walking' back the way he came, until he can smell the gingerbread cookies and the coffee he and his father were drinking. Leading the thread of consciousness is both like and unlike leading someone by the hand, and Ryou decides it's more like that than anything else, so he imagines pulling that hand ahead of him to touch the edges of the memory before letting go, dissolving his non-body. The thread of Yami's consciousness curls eagerly into the memory, sending out a rapid muddle of excitement, confusion, and pleasure.

"_That's the best I can do for now, Spirit. Later I'll try to put all of it in a room in the Millennium Puzzle to make it easier for you."_

"You going to buy that, or are you waiting for it to turn into real food?"

Ryou blinks- and realizes that he's been staring intently at a box of powdered mashed potatoes since he first suggested Yami go through his memories, face screwed up in concentration. Turning red, he whips around and finds himself face-to-face with- …The buttons of Seto Kaiba's coat. His eyes draw a slow, mournful line up his chest to his face. Thankfully, he isn't smirking- isn't even scowling, just gazing down at him inscrutably.

"I, err…" It isn't Joey. Or Tristan. Or Téa. Duke, Marik, Ishizu, Mokuba… It's a _good_ thing it's Kaiba, Ryou reminds himself. Deep breath, now. "What brings you here, Kaiba?" Good. That sounded nonchalant, right?

Seto Kaiba continues to stare silently at him, and then, without a twitch of an expression, raises his hand to show the box of Choco Sugar Blast-Os! he's holding. "Mokuba," he says flatly. It takes a great deal of self-restraint not to grin. Ryou strains, concentrates, reminds himself that this is a man who could very easily make him disappear and not a single person in the country would dare prosecute him for it. Innocently, doe-eyed as a newborn fawn, he says, "Oh?"

Kaiba, thank everything, only nods grimly. And then, inexplicably, his face darkens and he shoves the box in Ryou's face. Ryou flinches, expecting- he's not sure what, maybe to be shot through the box to muffle the gun blast, like one of those spy movies. (It's Kaiba, after all.) But instead the towering brunet leans down to him, growling, "Do you know how many chauffeurs we have..?" A lot, Ryou hazards silently. "And how many days off they have?" He would have guessed 'none' normally, but under the circumstances he's going to assume at least one. "Of _all the days_…" Kaiba trails off, seething silently to himself, and then slowly straightens, his face smoothing back into his usual unreadable, narrow stare, which he fixes back on Ryou's face.

"…I see," Ryou says after the prolonged pause seems to suggest he's waiting for a response. Kaiba eyes his basket, clearly asking one of his unspoken questions. Yami was always terrifyingly good at provoking and ignoring Seto Kaiba in equal turns, sometimes at the same time. He never seemed afraid of him, or even intimidated. Always he was cool, collected, ready, always half a step ahead. It was one of the relatively few things Ryou bothered to envy in Yami- and in Yugi, as well. Yugi has that same bravery- quieter, calmer, friendlier, perhaps not quite so regal and not _nearly_ so proud, but undeniably there. Ryou wishes he had that same easy fearlessness when it comes to Seto Kaiba. But the sad fact of the matter is that the man has always scared him shitless.

He bows to Kaiba's forceful stare like a daisy in a hurricane. "I live nearby, so…"

"I thought you lived near Yugi and his pack," Kaiba grunts, losing interest in Ryou's basket and beginning to stride slowly down the aisle. It takes Ryou a moment to realize he's supposed to join him. He grabs a random box off the shelf next to him to excuse the pause and hurries to catch up, Kaiba's absurdly long legs making even his conversational saunter a notch above Ryou's regular pace.

"No," he says when he falls into stride next to him, "I've lived here since we came to Domino." And then, because he can't quite help himself, he blurts out, "-How do you keep Mokuba off the ceiling when he eats that?" because he's looked at the nutritional panel on Choco Sugar Blast-Os before in a fit of morbid curiosity and the sugar content made him choke. The corner of Kaiba's mouth quirks up and he says, "Tranquilizers in the milk." Ryou half-laughs, turns it into a stifled cough into his fist, and replies, "Hm." Kaiba loves Mokuba. He wouldn't actually drug him. Probably.

"That was a joke."

Thank god.

"…I didn't know you joked. You always seem very, erm… Serious."

"Because people are idiots."

"Um." Well then. "Does… Anything make you happy?" He's really toeing the line now, and the sweat beginning to bead on the nape of his neck keeps him from putting the emphasis he wants to on 'anything'. (He really likes his organs inside his body, _not_ being sold on the black market, thank you.)

"Kittens."

"…You… Can't be serious."

"Obviously."

And Kaiba's smiling (truly, he should give up on that, it's terrifying)- or at least smirking in a less malicious way than usual- and Ryou's not sure whether to be happy he's not pissing him off or worried that he's having what amounts to a perfectly normal conversation with Seto Kaiba. A sudden stirring at the back of his mind distracts him from the urge to flee while he's still in Kaiba's good books. Now that he's aware of it at all, he can faintly feel the Pharaoh's essence rising from the Puzzle to eye the world around them through his eyes.

"_A… Friend?"_ Yami's voice is a bit terse, and Ryou realizes he's probably picked up on his own anxiety from being in Kaiba's presence.

'…_Well, not an enemy,'_ he thinks to himself, before replying to Yami.

" –_Yes, a friend."_

The agitated tension he feels in Yami's consciousness doesn't slacken in the least, but he says nothing more. He does not, however, retreat back into the Puzzle, apparently intending to lurk until- what, Kaiba tries to kidnap him? (Actually, Ryou has to admit that this is a somewhat valid concern- or would have been with Yugi. Ryou himself isn't interesting enough to warrant the bribes, no doubt.) He realizes the Puzzle Spirit's edgy presence has been distracting him and jerks his attention back to Kaiba. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to have noticed, apparently content to walk in silence (or maybe he's just forgotten Ryou's there- that's absolutely fine with him).

"That all you're getting?"

Or maybe he hasn't. Ryou follows Seto Kaiba's cold glance down to his own basket and its glorious bounty of oatmeal, milk, and… Fruit pectin. So that's what he grabbed. Pity he had no fruit. "Um." When did they reach the cashier? Bugger. He'd only _really_ needed the milk, but… Kaiba's frigid blue eyes are narrowed on him. Ryou doesn't know what it feels like to be vivisected by lasers, but he's thinking that stare comes pretty close. "Yes? Yes, err, that's it." The brunet makes a disinterested grunting noise and turns away to drop his cereal in front of the startled cashier. She swiftly rings him up, stuttering through thank yous that he blandly ignores, and, apparently of the notion that Ryou is with him, gets through his items just as quickly. She looks a little dazed when Ryou thanks her back, as if just getting over having her life flash before her eyes. Ryou sympathizes.

Kaiba is still walking at the same casual stroll, which Ryou guesses means he's supposed to keep walking with him. They exit into the chilly air of the parking lot, and he tries to make himself look just as casual, as if they just happen to be wandering in the same direction. His new 'friend' jerks his chin up without looking at him. "You're parked over here?"

"Err, no. I walked."

Kaiba nods boredly as if this was the answer he'd expected and keeps walking until they reach, of course, the most expensive-looking car in the lot, silver and sleek as his beloved dragons. The door he opens, however, is on the passenger side. His stare pins Ryou to the concrete like a butterfly on a museum display. "Uh, th-that's really not-" His eyes narrow, and one eyebrow begins creeping toward his bangs. "…Th-thanks," Ryou mumbles, crawling meekly into the passenger seat. Yami is bristling.

"_You said these were dangerous."_ His deep voice is the growl of a pacing panther, suddenly much closer to Ryou's own consciousness than he expected. He jumps a little even as he's clicking the seatbelt into place. _"I said 'not usually,' actually."_ The Spirit growls again, but this time without words, and it appears to be directed at Kaiba as he folds his leggy figure smoothly behind the wheel.

oOo

Seto Kaiba is an unexpectedly safe driver. Ryou supposes it makes sense, if he often drives with Mokuba in the car, but even so, it doesn't quite fit with the image of him he's had in his mind all these years. (To be fair, though, that image usually involved sharp teeth and fire-breath.) He parks like a dick, though, pulling up right next to the fire hydrant in front of Ryou's house and killing the engine without so much as a worried glance. Ryou doubts he's ever gotten a parking ticket in his life that he had to pay.

"Thank you for the ri-" Ryou's hand is on the door handle when Kaiba's long, bony fingers are suddenly twisting in his collar, and when Ryou whips around, the brunet's face is hovering over him, his absurdly tall silhouette blocking him in against the door. Yami doesn't even have time to try to take over before Kaiba's hands are- Unzipping Ryou's coat..? The Puzzle gleams against Ryou's rapidly-working chest, and as soon as it's uncovered Kaiba coils back into his seat like a pleased serpent, giving Ryou a look that says, _'Well? Do I have to ask?'_ He does not, in fact, have to ask. Ryou isn't sure what the look on his face is right now, but whatever it is, it makes Kaiba smirk. Yami is practically writhing with fury, and holding him back is requiring more brain power than Ryou really thinks he can afford to waste.

"-Uh, Yugi asked."

"He asked you to wear it?"

"Well… No."

Kaiba pins him with a long, eerily silent stare. Then he turns and starts the engine. "Don't faint in my car."

Ryou nearly topples face-first into the lawn in his haste to get out, by some miracle still clutching his shopping. The brunet doesn't wait for another thank-you before pulling away without another glance.

"_I find your taste in 'friends' less than satisfactory."_ The Puzzle Spirit is seething under a thin mask of control. Awkwardly zipping his jacket back up with one hand, Ryou silently agrees.


End file.
